Dear Tish
by Romana Dante
Summary: Martha tries to write a letter to her sister, trying to explain where she's been. But how can she possibly tell her about the Doctor?
1. Dear Tish

_Dear Tish,_

_You are probably wondering where I've been for a while, probably haven't shown up at the flat much, have I? I…_

How the hell was she suppose to explain this?

I have been traveling with a former patient of mine, John Smith, and forgot to call. Sorry. 

No, that was too intensive, and it made it sound like she had just wondered off with a strange man she didn't really know. Hospital scandal at it's best, yeah? Lovely.

I decided to take a holiday with a friend. You don't know him, but trust me he's… 

Bizarre. The statement, and the description that would have to follow. Tish knew her better then anyone else in the world, and she knew that Dr. Martha Jones, medical student of Royal New Hope Hospital of London would never take a holiday from work. Never had, never would. Until now that is. Let's try again.

I'm sorry I haven't called, but I was recently taken aboard a ship called the… 

Now it sounded like she had joined the navy or something. First she was a scandalous intern, then an uncharacteristic holiday tripper, and now a sailor. Go figure. At least as a sailor she and Tish would be on the same planet. Or were they already on the same planet? She'd have to ask the Doctor later…

I was sent away to attend a medical convention in Paris for a few weeks; it was a bit last minute, sorry about that. I'll bring you back a souvenir though, maybe a beret?

A convention in Paris? Tish knew she was hopeless at French, there was no way the hospital would send a London intern to a Paris convention without the ability to speak proper French. Plus, that one was just a downright lie. Not that she could possibly write the actual truth, right? Maybe…

I was at work the other day when the entire hospital was transported to the moon, big fuss, lots of broken windows, that sort of thing. Then my patient, a man called "John Smith" turned out to be an alien and we were attacked by giant monsters that looked like rhinos. John managed to save the day, with my help, and after that he asked me to come with him in his time-spaceship thing that looks like an old fashioned London Police Box. Really sorry I forgot to call!

No, absolutely not. That would never do. Writing it down on paper made it sound far too ridiculous to believable. She'd have to let Tish meet the Doctor and have him show her the TARDIS to get her to believe it, and even after that she still wouldn't. Tish was stubborn like that, and not in a good way. A bit like the Doctor actually, maybe they'd get along. She sighed, let's try this again. '

_Dear Tish,_

_You are probably wondering where I've been for a while, probably haven't shown up around the flat much, have I? I'm really sorry about all this; it's been an interesting week for me, though it probably was for you too. Let me explain: _

_I met a man at work the other day, sometime last week. He was a patient for a while, until no one could figure out what exactly was wrong with him and eventually gave up. He seemed fine whenever I walked in, but anyone time someone else tried to get anything he'd fall unconscious again, go figure. After that, a few strange things happened that I couldn't even begin to explain without sounding like a complete nutter and the patient, John Smith as he called himself, turned out to be much more then I expected. He was nice and funny, with something odd about him that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Over the course of what happened, the two of us came to know each other really well. By the end of it all, we were really good friends and didn't really want to have to say goodbye. He was a traveler Tish, and he invited me to go with him. _

_Remember me telling you about work? How no one really liked me because I studied too hard or something? How I had no one to talk to? Now I do. I know I should have come home, or left a note, or even just called you, but he had to go, and I had to go with him. It was all or nothing, Tish. I hope you understand. _

_I'll visit soon, we've just got to get a bit closer to London. Then you can meet him. Say hello to the family for me, tell mum I'm sorry I left like this. _

_Hoping you're having as brilliant a time as I am, _

_Love, _

_Martha_


	2. Dear Martha

_Dear Martha, _

_What the hell were you thinking? _

Honestly, the letter sounded about right just with that. It summed up her reaction, her family's reaction, the hospitals reaction, all in about six words. Hardly letter quality, but then what else did she really have to say?

_I'm so glad you've finally made a life-long friend Martha, now come home so I can kill you. _

That might be just a bit too confrontational. It was true that at the moment she really did want to kill her sister, but it was also true that that was not how you start a letter. Let's try again.

_The next time you take off with a complete stranger to go travel the world with for a whole month, could you please at least give us a phone call? _

Now that sounded too nice. She remembered reading her sister's semi-delusional e-mail a few days ago, _"Tell Mum I'm sorry,"_ she had said. Yeah, that had been a great conversation.

_So nice to hear from you, did I mention Mum's as mad as hell? _

And it wasn't just their mum, either. Their father hadn't been particularly thrilled to hear that his oldest daughter had just randomly decided to swan off with some mystery man from the hospital with no word or call for a month. The yelling had given her bad flashbacks to when the girls were still in school…and both living at home.

_You'd better have a good excuse for leaving._

This was what she really wanted answered. _"He was a traveler Tish," _ she had said, _"And he invited me to go with him." _ Yeah, but why? Over the years, Martha had been invited to all sorts of different things, medical conventions, internships in other countries, a year of backpacking with Bobby Simmons (very fit, she should have gone) Never once had she agreed. Not until now.

_Why this man?_

There had to be, Tish realized, something very, very different about the man her sister had gone off with. It was true that Martha had never really had many friends, had always had her nose to the grindstone and had never really been very happy with the world around her. She looked at the last sentence of her sister's letter, _"Hope you're having as brilliant a time as I am,"_ and finally knew what to write.

_Dear Martha, _

_What the hell were you thinking? Swanning off with a strange man and completely abandoning your job and your family like that! What was going through your head? Because whatever it was, I'm proud of it. _

_Looking back Martha, you definitely needed a friend. You always had me, that's for sure, and Leo, but siblings and friends are really quite different, you can never substitute one for the other. It's fantastic to see you finally finding someone Martha, and while I'm only a bit disappointed it's not a boyfriend, at least you found someone to talk to. _

_There is, however, the whole matter of you swanning off with this great friend to travel around the world. I'm a fair bit angry with you for not calling, and I promise you I'll get over it as long as you do one, simple thing: Come home. I refuse to be completely comfortable with this, until I meet this friend of yours. I know you don't technically need me to be completely accepting, you're an adult, you can do what you want, but I'm just saying. No meeting, no acceptance. That's it. _

_I am, however, as I said before, glad you found someone. You should probably work on your French a bit too, we both know you're hopeless at it. _

_Until next time, _

_Love, _

_Tish_


	3. Dear Doctor

Well…I finally got around to writing an author's note (sorry, I'm used to a different site that does it separately from the story, bear with me here) This story started off as a one-shot I thought of while I should have been doing geometry homework. Then I found it a few weeks later, and decided we needed to hear from Tish as well, and the rest just sort of came. Thank you to all that reviewed, and no, this is not the last chapter, this is just me trying to cram three author's notes into one. Enjoy!

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_Dear Doctor, _

_I couldn't find you in the console room, so I thought I'd just e-mail you. _

There, that was a good start. Something simple, nothing suspicious, nothing too horribly domestic…not yet anyway.

_I've just sent a letter to my sister back in London, and she's finally gotten around to writing back. _

He had said she could write and contact her family if she came with him, it should come as no surprise that one of them had written back. Though, that wasn't what was worrying her.

_She was wondering if maybe we could…_

No, that wouldn't work. He could easily just say no that, throw on his "Oncoming Storm" look and pilot them as far away from Earth as he could get. That was his typical response to mentions of her family, even if it had nothing to do with actually seeing them. It was as if he was afraid of the idea. Figures, the Oncoming Storm's worst fear: family.

_I know you're not a big fan of the whole 'family thing', but my sister Tish said…_

That wouldn't work either. Bringing the Doctor's weaknesses to light was never a good idea, even in a generally friendly manner. Normally, Martha would have no problem with this, she always figured it was good for him to hear that he wasn't infallible once and a while, to make him think about himself for a minute. But right now, she needed something from him.

_I need you to meet my sister, Tish, just for a minute. _

It was so out of his league. The exact opposite of something he would do. Sure, the Doctor was perfectly fine killing off whole hordes of evil space-demons with one wave of that screwdriver of his, if it meant saving a planet or the universe or something. That was normal for him. But meeting someone's family…it was so alien to him.

_Meet my sister, or she'll die. _

Oh, yeah. That was brilliant. Make him meet Tish by telling her she'll be killed if he doesn't, perfect. They'd meet, she'd live, and the Doctor would think he'd have saved her sister's life. Fantastic, for a lie. But then, Martha had never really been any good at lying. Maybe she should just scrap the whole thing.

_How are you Doctor? Just though I'd e-mail, nothing at all dramatic happening in my life right now, not at all. My sister Tish sends her love…_

She couldn't do that. _"No meeting, no acceptance," _Tish had said, _"That's it."_ Anything but love in that example. No, Martha had to get the Doctor and Tish to meet, and if it meant addressing his worst fear in the process, so be it. She opened up her e-mail, and apologized quietly as she wrote.

_Dear Doctor, _

_I couldn't find you in the console room, so I thought I'd just e-mail you. I'll admit, I'm a bit scared to ask this of you face-to-face anyway, so I suppose this works out in the end. Though if you really want to talk face-to-face about this then bring it on. I may be scared of the question, but I'm not scared of you. _

_A few days back I sent a letter to my sister, Tish. I told you about her, the stubborn one I said reminded me of you sometimes. I love her to pieces, and a lot of the time growing up, she was the only thing I had even resembling a friend, I'd be crushed if I suddenly didn't have her. Even if I am on the other side of the universe from her. I suppose though, that's why I'm asking you this. _

_In her letter, she gave me a sort of ultimatum. She said she was a bit angry with me for leaving like this, which in her language means she's about ready to throw me off the tower of London. She refuses to accept me, refuses to be ok with what I'm doing, until she meets you. Now before you go all "I don't do domestic" on me, let me explain. I love Tish, she's my sister and my best friend all rolled into one, and there isn't anything I wouldn't do for her. You'd only have to see her for about a minute for her to be ok with it, I just want to know that she's not angry. It's just one trip back, one visit, one more person to meet. _

_You have to understand; didn't you ever have someone you'd anything for? _

_I know this is a lot to ask, and I'm sorry. But I need you to do this. Just once. Please. _

_Yours, _

_Martha_


	4. Dear Martha Again

Wow, I'm on a roll today! Granted, the fact that I've been home sick all day with nothing to do but type on my laptop might have something to do with it…

Anyway, enjoy the new chapter; I'll have the next one up at some point. Not quite sure how to write the next one, since the whole story is done over the course of writing letters…I'll think of something…Enjoy!

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_Dear Martha, _

_Please use a different font next time you e-mail me. Even in my language, it was awful to read. _

Always start out with something funny. No matter what the news enclosed in the letter is, unless it's to tell them that someone they love is dead- which thinking about it now, he had done before- always start off on a light note.

_I-_

The Doctor took a sip of tea. He had had this response so carefully planned after reading Martha's note, why couldn't he remember it now?

_The thing of it is, Martha…I can't…_

The words were so jumbled up in his mind…it had all been so organized earlier. The entire letter had formed in his head literally seconds after he was through with Martha's. Now, the words seemed to escape him.

_I used to be able to do things like this…_

Now they were starting to come back, the sentences piecing together in his mind and then typed onto the screen. The terrible, awful phrases he was about to say, the things he feared the most.

_It's not that I'm afraid to 'go domestic', Martha, it's just that…_

There it is. A blatant lie. It was hardly anything intimidating, the sight of a human filled house, full of nothing but questions and concern and love and warmth. He knew he shouldn't be afraid of it, he knew he _couldn't_ be afraid of it, but he was. He was terrified.

_The last time I went anywhere near a family, I…_

…He what? He became attached? Is that right? He sighed…it was right. He _had_ become deeply attached to…that last family, and now that they were gone had no desire to do it again. He couldn't take another goodbye, not yet.

_I'm sorry. _

He looked at the words on screen, and at the printed out words of Martha's e-mail. She was desperate, he could tell, for her sister's acceptance. It was a natural human instinct for her to want that. It was all she wanted in the world right now…and he couldn't give it to her.

_I'm so sorry._

Despite her keeping him in check, keeping him from destroying whole races and empires without so much as a thought, he still couldn't bring himself to giving her this one thing she wanted. She had kept him sane, and now he was about to drive her mad. He sighed and took one last sip of tea.

_Dear Martha, _

_Please use a different font next time, even in my language it was awful to read. Whatever possessed human being to write in little symbols resembling spaghetti is beyond me. _

_Anyway, moving on. _

_In regards to Tish's e-mail, I need to make one thing clear before I answer. I don't do domestic. I used to, I used to be able to do things like this all the time without a single thought, but now I can't. There are several reasons for this, most of which if you're as smart as I think you are you should be able to figure out on your own. I have to keep myself from becoming attached, remember that, I cannot become attached. _

_That being said, I'll come with you to meet Tish. Ten minutes, that's all I'm staying for. Feel free to stay as long as you like, just let me know and I'll come and pick you up when you're ready. I don't want you to feel like you're being cut off from your family by traveling with me, a homesick companion is never fun to have around, but ten minutes is all I give myself for. I'm sorry. _

_Meet me in the console room, I promise I'll be there this time. _

_Sincerely (does that sound too formal?), _

_The Doctor _


	5. Dear Someone

So, this chapter's a bit darker then the other ones, it also plays with the format a bit. Sorry it's so different, I promise it gets happier at some point, I just have to play with the characters a bit more…love doing that, humour me.

Anyway, hope you like it anyway! Thank you so much to those who reviewed, it really does mean a lot to me! Enjoy!

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_Dear Martha, _

_I'm happy to hear that you're coming, but could you maybe tell me-_

There was noise from somewhere in the flat. A small crashing sound, as if someone had just broken a vase. It was impossible for two reasons, one being that she didn't own a vase and the other, far more disturbing reason, was that she was the only one there. Slowly, quietly, she crept across her bedroom to the doorway, just to take a quick peek. She was sure she was imagining things, that the rain pouring outside combined with the horror movie she had just watched was making her jumpy. She took a deep breath, and peered out into the hallway.

She nearly screamed. There was a figure standing in the dark of the living room. Tall and eerie, it looked almost as if it was waiting for something. The phantom stood almost casually in the center of the room, rolling backwards occasionally on what Tish assumed were his heels. She took a broom conveniently left in the center of the hallway, silently thanking her lazy tidying skills. Holding the stick up like a bat, she stepped out of the room and flicked on the light switch.

The figure turned, it was a man.

"WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY FLAT??!!!" Tish screamed at the tall man in the long brown trench coat and blue pinstripe suit. He looked confused, as if the answer should be obvious.

"I'm here to meet you, I believe," he answered calmly, "Tish Jones, I assume?"

"I…er…"

"Tish!" Tish turned from the man and nearly ran into Martha standing behind her. Her sister smiled, "We've been looking all over the flat for you,"

"I was…uh…that is…" Tish turned to face the man again who smiled before she turned back to Martha, "I was in my bedroom."

"Oh," said Martha, smiling, "Ok, good to know, I see you've already met the Doctor."

"The Doctor?" she turned towards the man.

"Doctor John Smith," he said quickly, "Martha's friend?"

"Oh…" Tish replied dumbly, "Right…sorry, I didn't hear either of you come in…do you still have my key?"

"Obviously," said Martha jokingly, "How else would we have gotten in? Lock picking device?"

"Sonic screwdriver," Martha and Tish turned and stared at the Doctor, Dr. John Smith as he was apparently called. His smile faded, "It was only a joke."

"Right then…" said Martha uneasily, giving her friend a look that said something Tish couldn't quite place, "Anyone want tea? You do still have tea, yeah?"

"Yeah," Tish agreed, "It's in cupboard…let me just go change out of my pajamas…didn't realize you were both coming so late…."

"It was sort of a last minute thing," said Dr. John Smith, "I can only stay for a few minutes."

"Oh…" Tish hesitated, "Alright…will you…er…"

"He'll be here," said Martha, "Don't worry about it…two sugars?"

"Yeah, I'll just be a second," Martha smiled and Tish walked passed Dr. Smith to her bedroom. There was something odd about him, though he had a nice enough smile to seem friendly. Maybe if she hadn't just run into him like that in the middle of her dark flat, with the rain pouring on the windows and a recently viewed horror movie still in mind, he might not had seemed quite so sinister.

Still, she realized as she finished changing and checked her hair in the mirror, she'd never heard of someone frightening or dangerous wearing a bright blue suit with red trainers, he couldn't possibly be that scary. Finally satisfied with how she looked, she took a deep breath, and walked out into the hallway.

The two of them were sitting in the living room, each with a hot cup of tea in hand. A third cup of tea, apparently meant to be Tish's, sat waiting on the coffee table in front of the couch they were sitting on. Tish took it and sat down in the armchair across from them.

"So," she said, as calmly as possible, "You're Martha's mystery man."

"I guess you could call me that…" he said hesitantly, "suits me."

"Where is it you're going?" Tish asked, "You said you're going to have to leave,"

"I, er…have…"

"Business!" burst Martha,

"Right," he agreed, "I have business I have to attend to, I suppose…can I go do that, Martha?"

"You have eight minutes," she said sternly, though there was a smile as she said it, "You're not swanning off yet."

"Speaking of swanning off," said Tish bluntly, "Why is it that you absolutely _had_ to leave without giving Martha a chance to let someone know, I mean couldn't you have at least waited for her to call…"

"She's an adult," Dr. Smith answered seriously, "I figured she could make her own decisions without getting permission from her mother."

"Well of course she can!" said Tish, "You're right, she is an adult, but it would still be nice to know where she is every now and then. I mean we're her family, we'd hadn't heard from her in over a month and we all live in the same city!"

"I did say I was sorry about that…" said Martha interjecting.

"Not your fault," continued Tish, "And what about you, Dr. Smith? How would you feel if some close member of your family just disappears for a month, without so much as a word, hm? How'd you like it?" Dr. Smith's face went rigid, his large, dark eyes intense.

"I don't have any family," he said simply, "And I never will."

He looked at Martha and stood up, "I'll see you later Martha, I hope I met your sister's approval." He dug his hands into his pockets and walked out, an almost sad expression on his face as he did. Tish turned her gaze back to Martha, whose expression didn't look good. Tish braced herself.

"Brilliant Tish," was all she say, the anger evident in her tone, "absolutely brilliant."

"Well how was I suppose to know he didn't have a family?"

"You still could have been a bit nicer to him, I did say it was my fault I didn't call."

"Because he wouldn't let you!"

"No," said Martha, thrusting her teacup onto the coffee table and standing up, "because I forgot. I suppose insensitivity runs in the family. Goodbye Tish." She started to walk out, Tish stood up.

"Martha wait!" Too late. Martha was gone before she could argue anything. She slumped back down onto the couch, and looked down at the two empty teacups on the coffee table. Behind her the rain poured against the windows, and a strange wirring sound could be heard coming from the outside. Not that she cared. Her thoughts returned to the letter she had been writing earlier.

_Dear Martha, _

_I'm happy to hear that you're coming, but do you mind…_

…_Never mind. _

_I'm sorry, _

_Tish. _


	6. Dear Doctor Tish

Hey look! An update! Sorry about the wait, I had the worst time trying to write this one…not sure how I feel about it yet, maybe it'll grow on me. Anyway, thanks for not giving up on me (and as always, thanks for the reviews!!) The next chapter should be up soon, as I'm about to start a three-day weekend, so I'll have LOTS of time!

Enjoy!

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_Dear Doctor, _

_I would like to apologize on behalf of my sister's insensitivity during your short visit to her flat. I believe that-_

God no. That sounded like a business letter, not an e-mail to a friend. And here she was suppose to be comforting. That definitely wasn't going to work. Maybe a different tactic?

_I really hope you're not put off of families forever, mine just happens to lack manners. _

Lacking manners, it was definitely true about her family, if not a complete understatement. Maybe…

…_mine just happens to lack tact. _

All right, there it was. Perfectly described her sister's behavior, lacking tact, though perhaps lacking sensitivity was a bit more accurate…Martha sighed, and leaned back in her chair as she stared at her laptop with contempt. This letter was never going to be written right…if only she could find…

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door.

"Martha?" said a low, familiar male voice, "Are you, er…there? Could I come in?" Martha smiled a bit and sat up.

"The door's open, Doctor." The door opened to the Doctor standing in the hallway.

"Ah," he said, motioning to the doors, "Right…I can, er…"

"You can come in," said Martha, smiling. He had never been in her room before, just like she had never been in his. He had told her in the beginning that he preferred no one to see his room, and she had accepted that, knowing only too well by then that he had plenty of reasons to keep things hidden. When the time came that she finally got a room however, she made it quite clear that didn't mind other people entering it, human, alien or otherwise. Growing up in a small house with two siblings and a set of nosy parents had made her quite used to others randomly wandering through her "private" space, and she had always found it a bit odd that the Doctor insisted she be left alone. He had never once come in for a visit.

Now, however, he stood nervously in the center of the room, hands in deep in his pockets as he rolled backwards on his heels. He looked a bit like an awkward schoolboy at his first school dance. His eyes darted around the room, taking in the few decorations and souvenirs she had collected on their travels so far, until finally resting on a small stethoscope left on the table next to her bed.

"Is that my stethoscope?" he asked, smiling.

"Course not," answered Martha, "Why would I need to take yours, I came with my own."

"That you did," said the Doctor, "Stethoscope, lab coat and all."

"And all you had was a screwdriver." He grinned.

"_Sonic_ screwdriver," he said proudly before an awkward pause, "I…er, suppose I would…"

"Suppose you would what?"

"I suppose I would like to apologize,"

"Would you?"

"Yes, I would," he sighed, "I could have tried a lot harder to be…er, friendlier, I suppose."

"Wasn't your fault," said Martha, "Tish was acting stupid and hit a nerve, that's all, no reason to apologize."

"It wasn't Tish's fault and you know it," Martha gave him a look. He scratched the back of his neck and sighed, "I'm terrible at this," he said finally.

"You're not too bad for a man that doesn't do domestic,"

"I don't mean that, I…" he hesitated, "I suppose it's…emotions, in general, that I'm terrible at," he sighed, "never been completely fond of them, I have to say."

"I've noticed," Martha agreed, "though for an alien, I'd say you're dealing with them fairly well."

"Not well enough," the Doctor replied seriously. Martha smiled, and looked him straight in the eye.

"That's why you have me," she said calmly.

"The human touch?" he asked.

"That's me,"

"I suppose that's good to know," he sighed, his expression turned pained, "We should go back…"

"You don't have to, you know."

"Yes, I do," he said simply, "Console, five minutes, if you'd care to join me."

"Haven't really got much of a choice, have I?"

"Nope," he replied, grinning, "Sorry." He turned and started towards the door, "Coming?"

"I'll be there in a minute," she replied, "Just have to finish something,"

"Alright," he said, "Works for me," Martha smiled.

"What exactly are you planning on telling my sister?"

"Oh, I can think of a few things," he answered, grinning, "See you in a minute!" Before Martha could respond, he was gone. Rolling her eyes, she turned back to her e-mail, and deleted it, opening a new page immediately afterwards.

_Dear Tish,_

_Brace yourself. _

_Love, _

_Martha_


	7. Dear The Doctor

_Dear Martha,_

_Words cannot express how sorry I am. _

No. That was stupid. Sounded stupid, looked stupid, felt stupid. It was the third draft of Tish's apology letter and it was going nowhere. Every version reminded her of something you would hear on a bad soap, and _none_ of them sounded anywhere near sincere. Maybe writing to Martha was a bad idea, after all, it wasn't her she had insulted.

_Dear Dr. John Smith,_

There, that was better.

_I am extremely sorry I insulted you. _

That was not.

_I never intended any hostility._

Of course she had.

_I really only wanted some answers._

And a good punch.

_My deepest sympathy for the loss of your family…_

Oh, that was brilliant. Bringing attention to the thing she had insulted him about. That would get her sister back, definitely. Tish sighed, and banged her head against the keyboard.

This wasn't working.

Four hours, Martha had been gone, four hours. During that time Tish had accomplished absolutely nothing apart from moving from the living room into the bedroom. Outside her room, everything remained the same. The teacups were still there, the biscuits were still half eaten and the rain still pounded on the windowpanes. Time stood still, and that's when Tish heard it.

It barely registered at first, it was just one of the many noises coming from the world outside her bedroom. As it grew louder, however, Tish realized that she recognized it. She looked up and gazed out the window, the sound growing louder as the rain picked up outside.

Engines.

She had heard them earlier, just barely before Martha had shown up with Dr. Smith, then again just after they left. Both times she hadn't cared merely because she had been distracted. This time, with nothing to notice except a rainstorm and a letter she couldn't write, it was different. It was louder. It was coming from inside. Slowly, carefully, same as before, she crept to the doorway of her bedroom, and peeked outside.

Nothing was there. Well, apart from the yet to be tidied living room and kitchen on the other side of the hallway. There were no monsters, no machines, no strange men in blue pinstripes, everything seemed normal. Everything was the same. As the engine noise died down, Tish took a well-deserved sigh of relief and stepped out into the hallway.

"Tish,"

"WHO ARE YOU??!" she turned. It was Martha.

"Last I checked," said Martha, amused, "I believe I was your older sister."

"What are you doing here?" Tish asked nervously, "Where's Dr. Smith."

"That's not his real name," Martha said calmly, "and he's right outside. There are some things we need to tell you, Tish, important things, things you're probably not going to believe but you're going to need to if you want to accept me."

"What?"

"Just trust me," And with that, Martha proceeded to blindfold her. Tish had had this done to her dozens of time when they were little, Martha had _loved_ to play tricks on her. She had always assumed her sister would grow out of things like this as the two got older, some things never change.

"What the hell are you doing?!" she screamed through the struggle.

"Sorry, just trust me," Tish felt herself being pulled out of the flat and into the dark outside, the rain pouring down on her and soaking her brand-new t-shirt. She heard a door open in front of her, and was suddenly pushed rudely though the open doorway. The noise of the storm stopped.

"Martha," she asked slowly, "Where are we?"

"I'm not," Martha began, slowly untying the blindfold, "the best person to ask." The small strip of black cloth dropped from Tish's eyes.

"Dr. Smith…" Tish gasped from her place by the railing. The man smiled.

"That's not my name," he said calmly, standing in front of a massive glowing structure in the center of the… room, was it? "Though you've probably guessed that by now."

"Tish," said Martha, standing behind her, "This is the Doctor, I met him at work when…er…"

"When the hospital was transported to the moon," said the Doctor, "I was disguised as a patient."

"Right," Martha agreed, "though he wasn't very good at it, every time I showed up there was nothing wrong with him,"

"Apart from the two hearts," he added, grinning

"You alright Tish?" Martha looked at her with concerned eyes as she stared wonderingly at the Doctor. She took a deep, slightly frightened breath.

"You said you were _disguised_ as a patient," said Tish, cautiously, "what are you really?" The Doctor sighed.

"You had to say _what_, didn't you?"

"It's a bit hard to explain," said Martha, "he's not really _normal,_"

"That's obvious," said Tish, bitterly.

"No, but what I mean is, he's not…human."

"What?"

"It's true," said the Doctor, lightly, "Remember the 'two hearts' comment?"

"You're nutters," said Tish, backing away, "or at least, _he_ is,"

"He's not," said Martha firmly, "He's telling the truth. He's an alien, a real live, honest to God alien from a completely different world."

"That you met on the moon?" Tish added skeptically.

"In the hospital, on the moon," said the Doctor, "not one of my favourite travel spots, not really a fan of hospitals," he turned to Martha and winked, "though the doctors were particularly nice at this one, I have to say."

"You'd better," said Martha jokingly before turning back to Tish, "I know this seems unbelievable, and I know you think we're both a pair of nutters, but I'm telling you, we're not lying. The Doctor is an alien, he has two hearts, and _this,_" she motioned upwards, "this is his spaceship, it's called the TARDIS."

"The TARDIS?"

"The TARDIS." Martha smiled, trying her hardest to look reassuring, "I know it's a lot to take in, but…"

"The hell it's a lot to take in!" said Tish, angrily, "First you disappear for a month, then you show up in my flat in the middle of the night with some strange man with no sense of color coordination…"

"Hey!" the Doctor interjected, "There's no call for-"

"Oh shut up, you're wearing a bright blue suit with red trainers and a trench coat, get over it!" Tish took a breath, "Anyway, then you storm off because your new boyfriend gets a bit moody and I get all guilt-ridden for four hours until you come back, kidnap me, throw me into some freaky building somewhere and try to tell me that he's an alien! What the hell is going on?! Who is he really? What has he done to you, and why the hell did you go off with him?!'" Tish stopped and took a breath, glaring intently at Martha.

"Well," said the Doctor, amused, "she's more stubborn then _you_ are."

"Runs in the family," answered Martha, "Though it _is_ a fairly unbelievable story."

"Suppose so. Right then," he jumped up suddenly and hit a few buttons on the glowing structure behind him, "where should take her?"

"Take me?" said Tish.

"Doctor…"

"Well we've got to take her somewhere, she'll never believe us otherwise,"

"I think we can do this without taking her anywhere," said Martha, "let me just take her outside," The Doctor grinned.

"Shall I bring a stethoscope?"

"Of course," she grinned back, "Come on then, let's go."

"Out there?" Tish asked, irritated, "it's pouring rain out there, I'm wet enough as it is!"

"Just trust me,"

"I've heard that before," Tish muttered as she let her sister lead her out the doors of the room. She wondered briefly if they were suppose to look like phone box doors, or if it was just another trick. She shivered as she stepped out into the storm, giving a slight gasp as she realized she was still at the estate her flat was in. She turned to Martha, "Was that a flat?"

"No," her sister replied smugly, "Turn around," Tish did as she was told, and suddenly wished she hadn't. Behind her stood a large blue box, just barely big enough for two people. The lights in the windows were on, and the sign at the top that read "Police Public Call Box" glowed eerily in the storm. Tish had seen pictures of these, in old family scrapbooks from when her parents had been teenagers. Supposedly, there were none left in London today, unless you wandered up to the sixth floor of Tish's estate, apparently. Tish regarded Martha skeptically.

"A police box?"

"Yeah," said Martha, amused, "A police box. Hard to believe we were just in there, huh?" Tish gasped.

"We couldn't have been."

"We were." Tish walked cautiously up to the box and ran her fingers on the front of the door, "Go ahead," said Martha behind her, "Door's unlocked."

"Right," said Tish, slowly wrapping her hand around the door handle. She took a deep breath, opened the door, and looked inside. The Doctor was standing in the center of room.

"Hello," he said brightly, rummaging through some things on the large, glowing structure, "Has the weather improved?" Tish didn't answer. Instead she shut the door, rudely slamming it at no one in particular. She took a few steps back and looked at the box, no longer caring how wet the rain was making her. It wasn't possible, she thought to herself, it just wasn't possible.

Frantically, she walked around the box, checking its size, hoping desperately that the outside was bigger than she thought. It fit tightly between the railing of the estate and door to the flat next door, but she didn't care, she managed to squeeze through anyway. She _had_ to prove her sister wrong, the man _had_ to be a nutter, there was no way _any_ of this could be happening. As she rounded the opposite corner of the box, the clearly phone-box sized box, however, she began to realize that she was wrong.

She backed away from the box, overwhelmed with fear, confusion, and anger. She stood still in the rain for what seemed like hours, though it was probably only a few minutes. The night was freezing and she shivered harder as the wind started to pick up. After a while, she felt a thick, warm coat get draped over her shoulders. She turned, it was the Doctor.

"Thought you might be cold," he said, holding out a stethoscope, "No use doing this while you're freezing." Tish took the stethoscope.

"Do I really have to do this?" she asked.

"Do you really believe me yet?" he asked back. Tish sighed and he unbuttoned his suit coat. She put on the stethoscope and cautiously put the end on his chest. She heard nothing at first, until he took her hand and moved it first to the right side of his chest and then to the left. There was a heartbeat both times.

"Two hearts," said Tish, quietly.

"Two hearts," he agreed.

"I suppose I…" she began.

"It's fine," he said, smiling, "You're not the first to have trouble handling it." Tish shivered and smiled back, not entirely grasping what all of this meant, but not wanting to push it either.

"Where's Martha?" she asked after a moment, motioning to the tall blue box behind them, "Did she…"

"She's in your flat, I believe, hopefully making tea," his smile changed to a grin, "You look like you could use a cup."

"If I could, so could you," she looked him over, noticing he had yet to put his suit coat back on again, "Aren't you cold?"

"Nah," he answered, "I don't get cold easily, besides, I've been to colder planets than yours."

"Ah," said Tish, "_Your_ planet. Leave it to my sister to finally make a friend and have it be an alien."

"At least it was a nice alien, right?"

"We'll see. For now, let's just go inside."

"The tea will get cold,"

"Right," she smiled at him, and the two began to walk side-by-side back to the flat. As she watched him however, hands in his pockets, looking contently out at the London street, looking so normal but at the same time so incredibly alien it occurred to her that for some bizarre reason this was exactly what her sister had needed. Martha had always been slightly above normality it seemed, to keep her trapped in it like Tish had planned would be a fate only slightly worse than death itself. She sighed, suddenly knowing exactly what to write in that e-mail.

_Dear "The Doctor", _

_It has become increasingly clear, that you are not good with a typical family situation. The fact that you're not human is probably a good excuse for this, but for now we're just going to ignore that minor detail and move on. _

_I have known Martha since the day I was born, obviously, literally. Since then, there hasn't been a single moment where she wasn't there. She was never any good at making friends as a kid, so I was forced to serve both the sister role, and the best friend role in her life. I cannot imagine life without her, despite my knowing she's with you, this whole experience is hard for me. Give me time, I'll get over it. _

_Please don't hurt her. I'm not asking you to "keep her safe" or "protect her for all eternity" or something, that would make it sound like you're getting married or something (plus she'd kill me if he knew I asked someone to "protect her") You seem nice enough, but I can't be sure. I have no idea what it is you two do while traveling, where you go, or what you see, I can only imagine. You seem so human sometimes, and I have trouble believing there's any real danger. But then there are times when you become distant, strange, something else entirely that I can only describe as alien. It's then that I become worried. Don't you dare hurt her, Doctor, no matter how alien you are, know that she has a whole life and family attached to her, and if you hurt her you hurt them even more. _

_Good luck to both of you, tell Martha to e-mail me a lot, and tell her I'm genuinely happy for her. I like you both, try to stay alive. _

_Yours, _

_Tish Jones. _


	8. Love, Martha

Hello! My apologies for not getting this out sooner, I've suddenly found myself INCREDIBLY busy (and the document uploader was being weird...) So, very sorry it took so long, but here it is! Keep in mind that I wrote this before I had seen series three.

This is, in fact, the final chapter of "Dear Tish". I really hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it (which I did enjoy, quite a bit!) Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing, love you all!

Again, I wrote this _before_ I had seen series three, just for the record. Thank you all again, I hope you enjoy the conclusion. Bye!

* * *

_Dear Martha,_

_I have some good news and some bad news. _

Martha rolled her eyes as she read and boiled pasta at the same time, trying desperately not to get water on her laptop. Tish never _was_ any good at greetings, she hadn't even bother to say hello this time.

_The good news is, mum and dad don't hate you anymore, I've gotten that sorted out._

How the hell did she do that? Thinking about it, Martha decided she probably didn't want to know.

_The bad news is, they've gone back to just hating each other. _

That sounded more like them. Martha took a jar of tomato sauce off the counter and began pouring it onto to dishes of pasta. She was almost done…

_I told Leo…_

What?! Martha nearly dropped the cheese grater on the floor in shock. She had told Tish to keep it a secret, what the hell had she done?

_He said "Nice going, always thought she was a bit spacey," and congratulated you. _

Well that was nice, but did he tell…

_He didn't tell his wife or Keisha, figured I was making half it up anyway._

Phew. Martha picked up the cheese grater and started covering the sauce-laden pasta with mozzarella. She wondered how much longer this e-mail was.

_I have to go now._

That was quick.

_I have to be to work._

Typical Tish.

_Good luck with your plan, write to tell me it worked and that you're still alive._

Martha hoped she'd be, she couldn't make any promises.

_Mum and dad send their love…sort of, and Leo does too. Please try not to get attacked by giant slugs or something and leave me to sort out the family. Keep having a fantastic time. _

_Love, _

_Tish. _

Martha smiled as she closed her e-mail and shut down her laptop. The Doctor would have a heart attack when he found out she'd had it so close to a pot of boiling water. Although, it couldn't be that bad, if she made one heart die of shock, he still had another one.

The plan she had concocted was partly inspired by something Tish had said after she and the Doctor had come in from the rain. The tea that had followed had been…interesting, to the say the least, but it had gotten Tish to accept the situation and, more importantly, to accept the Doctor. God knows it was better then he had done.

"Martha?" she turned around suddenly, dropping a loaf of bread between plates on the table.

"Hello Doctor," she said nervously. For once, the Doctor looked confused.

"You…" he pointed at the table, "You made us dinner."

"I did," said Martha, smiling and attempting to sound coy, "we're going to conquer your fear," the Doctor raised an eyebrow.

"Of what?"

"Domestics," she grinned and pulled out a chair, "care to join me?"

"Doesn't the man usually hold the chair for the woman?" he asked cheekily.

"Never been one for gender stereotypes," she replied, equally flirtatious. The Doctor sighed and walked over to the pulled out chair and sat down. He took a napkin from beside the silverware and spread it on his lap, then sat silently and waited. Martha looked down at him, "Planning on eating anything?"

"I'm waiting for you."

"That's polite," she grinned and walked back over to the counter, "See, you can do domestic."

"Polite doesn't always equal domestic," replied the Doctor simply, "to most people, I'm thought of as being rather rude."

"I'm sure," she took two glasses down from a cupboard, "Do you drink wine?"

"Not usually," he replied, "but I will tonight," she smiled and poured them both a glass, handing him his as she say down across from him. She put her napkin on her lap and lifted her fork, causiously taking the first bite. To her relief, he did the same.

"Any good?" she asked.

"Very," he said grinning, "You never told me you could cook."

"You never asked," she took a sip of wine, "Do you cook?"

"Me?" he looked surprised, "Of course not."

"So there _is_ something you can't do,"

"I never said I couldn't, I just don't like to."

"Then you do cook?"

"Yes, I can."

"Good, then next week it's your turn," the Doctor nearly spit out his wine.

"What?" Martha smiled.

"I've decided to make this a weekly event, well, as close to weekly as you can get in here. Every Thursday we'll have dinner and every other Thursday you get to cook. A little bit of domestic once a week,"

"And this will 'conquer my fear'?" the Doctor asked sarcastically.

"Little by little," Martha answered coyly, "Just so I don't have to be afraid to visit my sister occasionally, even she said you needed work."

"Lovely," said the Doctor, "another family after me," he took a sip of his wine and sighed, suddenly looking extremely sad, "It's not…fear, anyway."

"What?"

"Domestics," he said slowly, "I'm not afraid of them."

"Ok,"

"I mean it."

"I believe you,"

"Do you?"

"Yes,"

"You shouldn't."

"Oh," Martha looked up from her meal. The Doctor's expression was unreadable across the table, his eyes looking intensely at Martha's. He was deadly serious, and absolutely desperate to get something across that just _couldn't_ understand. In the dim, greenish light of the TARDIS kitchen, he looked strange and mysterious, and anything but human. She reached a hand across the table, "What happened?" she found herself asking.

"It…" he began, "She…they…all of them…I became…attached, I suppose…and they left me."

"Who left you?"

"A family."

"Like my family?"

"Yes," he sighed again, the long centuries of his life suddenly showing in his eyes, "A family just like yours, with a London flat and pot of tea waiting every time we stopped. I was hurt there, I drank tea there, I spent Christmas there, and now it's just…" he paused, his gaze regretful and a million miles away.

"Just what…?"

"Empty," he turned back to Martha, his serious expression returning, "You shouldn't believe everything I say Martha, remember that, don't. But what I'm telling you now, that's it's not domestics it's attachment, that's true. I swear to you, that 's true." He stood up, dropping the napkin on his plate before turning towards the door, "Dinner was great," he said before leaving, "thank you Martha," he turned and left, walking towards parts unknown in his ship. Martha say speechless at the table, left with nothing but half a glass of wine and thousands of questions.

"I'll find out eventually," she told herself, "Some day, he'll open up." She had never met a person more in need of talking than the Doctor. He may not tell her everything, and what he does say might not be entirely correct, but whatever happened, Martha knew he needed to communicate. She got up and walked over to the counter, turning on her laptop, and once again, opening her e-mail.

_Dear Tish, _

_Have you ever met someone who talks constantly, but tells you absolutely nothing?_

_It's good to know you're still willing to e-mail me even thought I've gone "swanning off" with an alien and pretty much abandoned the family. It must take a lot to adjust to that, thank you for doing it. If you could, could you give Leo my new e-mail too? Hearing from you is brilliant, and hearing from both of you would be even better. _

_I say this because I know what it means to talk now. I know what it means to have secrets that need to be spoken, but have no one to speak them to. I've seen how staying silent can destroy a person, and how hard it becomes to finally talk. _

_Never stop sending e-mails. Never stop telling me about home, the family, or anything else, and don't you dare leave anything out. Never think to yourself that you might be talking too much, because you're not, and you never will be. With all that happened, all that might happen, never stay silent. Keep writing, keep talking, and always send me letter. _

_Love, _

_Martha_


End file.
